


Forged into the Stone

by Ewa_a_nie_chce_spac



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, First Age, Grief/Mourning, Original Character(s), Other, Poetry, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ewa_a_nie_chce_spac/pseuds/Ewa_a_nie_chce_spac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morwen by the grave of her children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forged into the Stone

They saw her by an accident:  
she was a sorrowful woman,  
constricting herself  
down to the ground,  
with the swarm  
of all these years,  
which she’s subsisted  
somehow –

the tiddly creature,  
nestling into the soil,  
shaken with her fear  
(as a field mouse,  
when it’s finally fled  
to its burrow  
from the clutches  
of an eagle-owl),  
was holding the tombstone  
against her chest:

she had to be the another  
victim of surviving,  
while the other(s)  
should have lasted.

They came to her  
out of their propriety,  
threw the blanket  
on her back,  
squeezed some slices  
of bread to her hand,  
and then gave her  
a bowl of hot soup  
(without a spoon).

„Theres a human settlement  
close to this place”,  
sighs one of the rescuers.  
„It seems they may take you in”.

„We can’t do this:  
too many of us  
are wounded,  
and many others  
went into captivity”.

„Humans here are good,  
and this beautiful memorial  
of these two poor things  
may be a sign  
of their kindness…”

They walked away  
from the worse child of God.

And she was still laying her sight  
on the letters  
forged into the stone  
the memory:

—The son slain by the fate, which he tried to tame—  
—The N.N. daughter—

The bread became covered  
with mold  
(and its one slice  
was juiced  
by the painful palm),  
the soup was poured out  
and it burned  
the woman’s knees.

The tormented rottenness,  
shedding the tears  
on the grass below,  
was found by her man  
after some time –  
the last merciful deed  
he could done for her,  
was not bearing witness  
to the truth.

The man covered  
all past misfortunes  
with him,  
and kept the vigil with her  
by the dear remains.  
Then he laid her into the soil,  
bid her farewell  
and perished.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make it more universal, so I didn't use any original names (except Nienor's initials, cause they perfectly suit my intention).


End file.
